


America and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Debt

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Actually a lot of nations are horny, But NOT America he is horny for justice, England is horny, Humor, M/M, Seriously do NOT take this seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: America just learned how truly deep in debt his country is. Never one to miss out on the chance to be the hero, he swears he'll be the one to save the economy from crumbling! If, of course, he can keep a steady job.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 24





	America and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Debt

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I'm starting another USUK fic. Haha! I honestly love writing the fratboy fic and seeing countries interact with humans and shit like that, so I wanted to write something with America taking on normal, everyday jobs and failing somehow. Obviously this is USUK because those are my babies, and POV may switch from either America or England depending on the job. Each chapter will be a different one! :) I hope you guys like this.

America stared at his boss in utter confusion. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back it up, chief. How much debt do I owe?” 

“You, Alfred, do not owe anything. The country, however, is twenty-four trillion dollars in debt,” his boss explained for the third time.

“Why don’t we just print more money and pay it off?” 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I can’t believe I just solved our debt problem!” America ignored the President, grinning. “I gotta tell Iggy. He’s gonna be _so_ jealous of how smart I am.” He took out his phone, unlocking it with his thumb and pressing on the messaging app.

“America, we can’t do that. Do you want to tank the worth of the dollar?” The President asked, baffled. 

“But if we had more dollars, wouldn’t it make the dollar more powerful?” America pondered. “Makes sense to me, dude.”

“That’s not how–” The President sighed, cutting himself off. “You know what? If you want to help us out of debt, why don’t you get a job?” he asked sarcastically.

“Okay!” America said cheerfully.

“Ha, that’s what I thought. Now–wait, what?” The President blinked.

“Dude, I’m the hero. It’s my job to save everyone and everything, including myself haha! Of course I’ll get a job to save us from the evil clutches of communists!” 

“Oh, I was just kidding–”

“Great meeting, dude! I got a few phone calls to make.” America fist bumped his boss and stood up from his chair. He pushed the chair into place because he could practically hear England’s gasp of horror if he didn’t act properly. America walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

The President sat at his desk, head in his palms as he stared at the table in pure horror. “What have I done?” he whispered to himself.

* * *

America scrolled through his contact list on his phone as he took a sip of his big gulp soda. He had plenty of people he knew that were super high up and could get him a job easily, but what job would pay, say, a trillion a day? Then he’d only have to work twenty nine days!

“Maybe I should rob Jeff Bezos…” America mumbled. He shook his head, and decided to save that thought for another day. He opened up Google on his phone and started typing.

_What is the highest paying job?_

America clicked search, and picked the first link to pop up. As he scrolled down the list, his jaw dropped in shock. “What the hell is a…” He paused, trying to sound it out. “An..anesth… Oh screw this!”

Huffing angrily, America deleted the search and quickly typed in a new one.

_EASY high paying jobs_

He smirked at his ability to totally outsmart the system. Then frowned as he scrolled down another list, most of the jobs requiring some level of education. Not wanting to step foot into a school and be a complete dork, America groaned loudly. “This is bullshit! Why is nothing easy in this world?”

He pouted and clicked the home button to exit the safari tab, and reopened his contact list. There had to be someone on here who could help him out!

Accidentally pressing on a contact, America nearly dropped his phone when it began to ring. He looked at the name he had clicked, then grinned triumphantly. Of course! Why didn’t he think of this before? 

“Hey, Alfred!” The voice answered. “How have you been?”

“What’s up, Metropolis?” America asked casually. “I’ve been uh, alright. I still miss the boy Hef everyday, you know?”

“Yeah,” the guy said with a sad sigh. “Us too. Thanks for coming to his funeral, he always said how he really valued your friendship. Said you guys go way back, which made no sense to me haha. Did the old fella babysit you or something?”

“Er, yeah!” America forced a laugh. He really needed to stop telling his favorite citizens who he was, but it was hard, okay! If any of the other nations found out, they’d be totally pissed. Maybe he should just come out about it? Topic for another time. “Listen, I was wondering how much the playboy bunnies get paid.”

“Depends on how hot they are. We tried to buy that chick from _Friends_ for four million, but she turned it down. Shame.”

Four million? That would solve like, a lot of his money problem! His boss would actually be proud of him for once! “How much would you offer a… very attractive nineteen year old all American boy?”

“You wanna be a playboy?” The guy asked with a laugh. “We used to not have male bunnies, but the gay community pays surprisingly well.”

“Hef mentioned something like that,” America said. Gay rights! Only took two hundred years or so, but his country is finally doing alright in that department.

“Funny enough, Hef left a check for you,” the guy mused. “I don’t know how, but he must’ve known you’d ask about this. Crazy guy.”

“Are you serious, dude?” America asked excitedly. He fucking loved his citizens! He’d have to ask England to do one of those stupid “scenes” or whatever to thank his boy personally. Even though he hated ghosts. “How much did he write on the check?”

“I’ll go grab it, I know it’s in his old office.” There was scuffling heard on the other line. America waited patiently as he fist pumped the air. He was totally gonna save his people from the impending economic collapse, like the hero he was. There was a gasp on the phone.

“Metro? Everything cool, dude?” America asked, slightly concerned. 

“Alfred… who are you?” the guy asked, laughing in disbelief. “Hef left you a check for _ten million dollars_ if you would do a few shoots. That’s unheard of!”

“WOO! I’M GONNA SAVE THE ECONOMY!” America cheered as he jumped up and down, clutching the phone like a lifeline. “What do I have to do, man? I’ll do anything!”

“How do you feel about nudity?” 

America paused, looking at himself in the mirror hanging on the back of his bedroom door. He smirked as he said, “All for it.”

* * *

America felt better than he had in a long time. The people he did his photoshoot with that weekend were awesome, the costume looked amazing on him, and best of all, the look on his boss’s face when he handed him the check with a wide grin was absolutely priceless. He was in such a good mood that he didn’t even feel like being a dick during the world meeting, which was causing wary glances to be sent his way.

He kept glancing at his phone underneath the table, constantly swiping up to refresh his emails. Metro had told him that the virtual magazine was going to be uploaded today for members, and he’d be sent the pictures along with anyone else subscribed to the mailing post.

_Bzzz._

It vibrated in his hand, and he eagerly clicked on the new email.

 **From:** playboybunny@gmail.com

 **To:** theherojones1776@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Welcome to the mansion, Bunny

_Good afternoon, Alfred!_

_The shots came out perfect. We’re sending out the magazine in around five minutes, about the same time you should receive this email! Our editor barely had to photoshop anything. You did amazing, you’re a natural born bunny. The girls and guys loved ya, you’re welcome anytime. In fact, I know quite a bit of people who mentioned turning you into a playmate. Let me know your thoughts on that, no pressure. By the way, Hef specifically wanted to title this edition “The Beautiful Land of the Free” for some reason. Never saw him as a big nationalist, but I had to respect a dead man’s wishes._

_It was a pleasure working with you,_

_–“Metro”_

**Attached:** **the.beautiful.land.of.the.free.shoot.img [146 MB]**

America grinned as he finished reading. He heard five of the other nation's phones buzzed on the table, but he ignored it in favor of putting his own away. They offered to work with him again, and make him a playmate! Whatever the fuck that was. That was totally a raise, right? Maybe his next check would be worth _twenty_ million! Oh dude, he was so gonna have this debt paid off.

His train of thought was abruptly cut off by England choking on a sip of tea, phone in one hand and the other on his neck. His face was bright red, knuckles white around the phone. 

Hero senses tingling, America sprung out of his chair and slammed his hand on the older nations back. England wheezed as the force of the smack practically shoved him onto the meeting table. 

“Dude! Are you okay?” America asked, looking at England with concern. England opened his mouth, and America closed his eyes and winced as he braced for the beration he was sure to receive.

Then nothing came.

America hesitated, then opened one eye. Going off of past experiences, England should totally be trying to kill him by now. “Uh, Iggy?”

Still no response from the blushing island nation.

America caught sight of England’s phone, which was unlocked and open. Opened on photos of him, which normally he’d be very flattered but these were _those_ photos. The pictures of him naked except for bunny ears, a jockstrap, and a tail. Pictures of him looking wanton and debauched, surrounded by men and women. 

His first thought was, _Wow, I look hot as fuck!_

His second thought was, _Haha. England’s such a pervert, being subscribed to Playboy._

His next thought was, _OH FUCK HE SAW ME DRESSED LIKE A PORNSTAR!_

His final thought was, _Hm, maybe I should try that next…_

Shit, shit, shit! What could he do to get out of this? C’mon America, use that humongous brain of yours and think of an idea!

“That’s not me!” America yelled, pointing at the offending phone. Nice. Denial! Always works.

“It very clearly is!” England yelled back. Shit! Why was the Brit being so persistant? 

“Uh, well, er,” America sputtered, trying to think of his next move. “Well why are you subscribed to something like that, huh?” Yeah! Good one, deflect it right back onto the perv. 

“I–” England was now stuttering, trying to find an excuse of his own.

“Oh, Amerique, you look absolutely divine!” France called out, raising his phone for all to see. FUCK! Of course France was subscribed to Playboy, he had no shame!

“I had no idea you were so fit underneath your ugly bomber jacket and baggy hoodies,” Japan complimented. Well, sort of.

“Ugly?” America scoffed, slightly hurt. “Have you never heard of fashion?” 

“Why did you do this, America?” Germany asked, face pink as he stared at his own phone in shock. 

“This is fantastic,” Hungary whispered to herself, grinning at her laptop. “You’ve outdone yourself, America!” Austria just made a face at the pictures as Hungary zoomed in.

“Italy, fantastic presentation!” America quickly changed the subject, clapping. “I also believe that one giant lasagna will solve world hunger! How about we work on that?”

“Thanks, ‘Meri!” Italy smiled happily. “Can I see the sexy pictures of you too?”

America cringed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed England save the photos of him from the magazine. “Hey, you can’t save those! Private property!”

“Uh, I bloody well can and just did! I pay for the stupid thing,” England retorted without thinking. After a pregnant pause, he coughed. “Not because I want to look at you or anything! It’s blackmail material. And I think Scotland signed me up for the subscription anyways!”

“Mon cher, should I expect you on next month’s cover as well? Oh! Perhaps a calendar shoot, that’d be magnifique.” France shot the younger nation a saucy grin. 

America pouted and stomped his foot, about five seconds from a tantrum. “Dudes, you ruin everything!” he wailed. “I had a good thing going on here! NOW I’M STILL TWENTY BAJILLION IN DEBT!” He grabbed his briefcase, phone, and ran out of the room. 

“America cares about his debt?” China asked, confused. 

“Good job, France! Now how am I going to get bunny America and butler England if the dummy quits his job?” Hungary huffed, crossing her arms. 

“I’m great with photoshop, Hungary. Don’t worry,” Japan promised her. “We can edit England into these in no time.”

“Pardon?” England asked, bewildered. 

“Don’t blame me! It was Angleterre!” France held up his hands in surrender. 

“Well, I guess I should go comfort him,” England said, not even attempting to fight back. “Lovely meeting and whatnot, real productive shite. Feel free to continue without me.”

“That’s not fair!” France jumped up and pointed at England with a scowl. “Why do you get to have sex with America?”

“I saw the pictures first!” England glared back, then turned red again. “I–I am not leaving to go fuck that idiot!”

“Enough!” Germany slammed his fist down on the table.

Everyone stood still.

“No one else is leaving. That’s an order. Without America, maybe we can get through something for once,” Germany said.

“Germany, you’re not off the hook,” Hungary sang, smirking at him menacingly. “Why are _you_ subscribed to Playboy?”

The rest of the nations “ooh’d” quietly, and Spain had to hold back Romano from attacking the blond for being a pervert. Germany sunk in his chair, completely embarrassed.

* * *

America sniffled as he sat by his desk, tapping the keys halfheartedly. He couldn’t believe those guys! Now he actually had to go job hunting again! Fucking dickheads.

 **From:** theherojones1776@gmail.com

 **To:** playboybunny@gmail.com

 **Subject:** FML DUDE

_Hey Metro,_

_I can’t be a playmate. :/ Some embarrassing shit happened… I’m totally surrounded by pervs dude. Can u recommend a new job to me? <3 _

_BTW, Totally down to chill wt u fellas and ladies anytime,_

_– Alfred Freeeeeeedom! Jones_

America sighed as he hit send, rubbing his eyes. What was he gonna do now? At least being a playboy, he’d have the debt paid off in a century or two! 

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off above his head as it hit him. 

Literally, one of his chandeliers came crashing down. 

“Stupid freaking faulty wiring,” he grumbled, rubbing his head. Nevertheless, he shot up from his seat with an idea ~~and internal bleeding~~ in his head.

This was just a minor setback, and it happened to heroes all the time! In comic books and movies, the protagonist never succeeded on their first try.

Feeling rejuvenated by his own pep talk, America grinned. He would stop the evil debt threatening his poor economy!

Ten million down. A shit ton more to go.

**Author's Note:**

> @muzanjacksons if you wanna chat.


End file.
